


Personal

by DualService (Cell0113)



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 11:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cell0113/pseuds/DualService
Summary: Copied from my FanFiction.NetIn Film, ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. Special!GCBC is confronting Lord Business. It's That Scene, and then some. Warning for feels, extensive use of headcanons, and an Irishman being very Irish.





	Personal

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Piece of Rebellion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297885) by [Mattecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattecat/pseuds/Mattecat). 



Bad Cop jumped as the huge double doors swung open, billowing fog dramatically outwards before the advancing form of Lord Business in his full regalia. It was something he'd seen several times before, as he almost always gave his reports in person, but this time was different for several reasons.  
There were four robot guards escorting him, he was in handcuffs, and -oh yeah- he had a great big red Relic adhered to his back.  
Needless to say, the cop was more than a little bit nervous.  
Still, now was not the time to falter. He had to make his case, and fast, before something else when wrong on this horrifically awful, no good, very bad day.

"S-Sir, I apologize for the delay in my report, but I have secured the Piece of Resistance. I am fully prepared to aid in its disposal. Sir."  
"Oh ho, you better, Bad Cop."

The police officer swallowed hard as Lord Business stomped closer, his huge elevated boots causing faint tremors to run through the floor with each step.

"I mean, you are my number one most loyal underling, it would never ever cross your mind to help those awful Master Builders."

Bad Cop tried to take a step back as he found himself staring almost directly up at the sole of a boot twice as long as he was tall, and couldn't help flinching when it came down on top of one of the robot guards with an ugly metallic CRUNCH.

"Right, Bad Cop?"  
"O-Of course, sir!"  
"Really? Hm, well, I'd like to believe you..."

This was bad. This was very very bad.

Lord Business stepped to the side, his heel crunching another of the robots, leaving two splintered piles of metal sparking on the carpet as a section of the wall slid open, revealing a huge screen.

"But I've got a lot of security footage that says otherwise."  
The screen flickered to life with a multitude of windows, and Bad Cop felt his innards give an uncomfortable twist as several videos began to play all at once. With himself as the main focus. There he was being rescued by Wildstyle from the Melting Chamber, and there he was getting tossed around in that junk-motorcycle. Arguing with himself to try convincing the Master Builders that he was (half) on their side, fleeing from the robot police...  
Several other videos flickered onto the screen, each section of footage seeming even more damning than the last.

"So, Bad Cop- I'll ask you again: Were you helping the Master Builders?"

Lord Business loomed over him, brow furrowed with a sharp, unfriendly smile slashed across his face, hands on hips as the continuing footage flickered colored light over his flame spurting helmet. The police officer felt his stomach give an almighty turn, and he had to swallow hard to hold back the sudden nausea.

"Sir, no, sir! Most definitely not, sir!"  
"Oh yeah? Let me hear it from the other guy."

Oh no.  
No no no-! Lord Business wasn't supposed to fall for that stupid ploy!

Horrified by the realization, Bad Cop found himself gaping up at his boss, and swallowed hard as the megalomaniac's eyes narrowed. It took more effort than he cared to admit to himself to get switched out, the stress of the situation instinctively dragging the defense of Bad Cop to the forefront, but with a little cooperation, they managed. The fear that had been tamped down with Bad Cop's focus surged forward as Good Cop settled, and he felt himself start to shake.

"I- I h-have not ever, will not ever help the M-Master Builders! Sir!"  
"Is that so?"

Lord Business loomed closer a moment, eyes narrowing further, then gestured towards the screen.

"Then how do you explain this?"

As they'd feared, the multiple videos were swept aside to allow a singular section of footage to fill the screen. It was them tied to that stupid rock in the middle of the Old West, fake arguing with each other while Wildstyle and Vitruvius watched, trying to convince the Master Builders that they were truly separate personalities. Watching from the outside, Good Cop felt a twinge of regret at realizing how convincing the whole act looked, how the two Master Builders seemed genuinely confused.

Didn't anyone stop to think that, even if they were entirely separate personalities, that they must have found some manner of compromise, some kind of alternate communication between the two of them? Did no one think on the fact that, despite their personality issues, they had BOTH become police officers?

"S-Sir, we were attempting to- to engineer a situation wherein we could gather information, attempt an escape! We- I would never betray your trust, sir!"

Good Cop could feel his heart pounding in his ears, a frantic thumping that only got worse as Lord Business frowned down at him without reply. He knew he was twitching, the instinctual urge to switch to the more logical and cool-headed Bad Cop almost overwhelming. It was only because Bad Cop understood a switch would just make things worse that they didn't.  
Finally, Lord Business huffed and straightened, a gesture causing the screen to disappear behind the wall once more.

"Well, you certainly seem sincere. Still, I think a test is in order, so I can be absolutely certain your loyalty won't ever be in question ever again. Robots!"

The two remaining guards abruptly grabbed his arms, and Good Cop couldn't help a small yelp as metallic pincers clamped roughly around his elbows, forcing his arms straight and almost pinching through the thick leather of his coat. He was frog-marched forward, nearly yanked off his feet more than once, and Bad Cop snarled curses in the back of their mind as he stumbled over the crushed remains of the other two robot guards.

"I've told you about the Kragle, right? My plans to fix the universe?"

Good Cop gave a reluctant nod, swallowing hard as he tried to keep up with the robots dragging him along.

"Y-Yes, sir. The Kragle i-is the most powerful weapon of the Relics, and it's going to make everything stay in order, permanently. And the Piece of Resistance is the only thing that can stop it. Sir."  
"Exactly! And do you know how I'm going to do that?"  
"Ah... No, sir, y'never really explained that far."  
"Oh! Then this will be a surprise. Computer! Send in Taco Number One!"

There was a sharp hydraulic hiss, and Good Cop looked up in time to see a section of the ceiling crack open, making him squint in the abrupt brightness that came shining down. Blinking, he could not help a soft gasp at seeing an enormous robotic tentacle descend through the opening, unfurling snake-like and predatory past him and towards Lord Business, sharp talon-like extensions flexing around a huge mechanical nozzle as the megalomaniac patted the top of the metal carapace with an almost paternal affection.

"Good Cop, say hello to the Tentacle Armed Kragle Outside Sprayer, Nozzle Number One."

The machine whirred menacingly. The cop shuddered, swallowing hard.

"H-Hello."

Lord Business laughed, turning away from both cop and machine to stride further into the bright white expanse of the Relic Room, and Good Cop felt a small measure of tension ebb away at no longer being glared down at by their boss. A mental nudge from his other half had him re-focusing on Lord Business as the man started talking again.

"Now, on Taco Tuesday, I'm going to deploy these nozzles all over the different realms, and they're going to Kragle-ize everything and every one so that the universe can be perfect. Forever."

Wait. Everyone...?  
A fearful stone of dread settled its solid weight in the pit of his stomach as the mechanical tentacle coiled around to direct its nozzle towards him, talons flexing as it advanced.

"Let me show you how it works."

Switching out before Good Cop could panic, Bad Cop forced himself to be still in the grasp of the guards, even as he clenched his fists and felt a trickle of cold sweat start down his spine.

"Sir, I don't know that this is necessary."  
"Oh, don't worry. I won't test it on you."

The nozzle turned away in a whirring of gears, and it took more effort than he anticipated to keep from slumping in relief.

"No, no, that would be a complete waste of a perfectly good test. No, I'm going to test it-"

Before them, a section of the floor clanked open, machinery humming to life.

"On your parents."

A familiar house rose up into view, and Bad Cop felt his blood run cold, freezing in place as assuredly as if he'd been turned to stone.  
The tiny little cottage sat peacefully upon a broad swath of thick grass they remembered playing on in their childhood, running about with homemade cardboard patrol cars and planes, arresting the dog and cats. The old picket fence was still slightly crooked on one side from the time he went and crashed their bike into the corner post while pretending the neighbor's cat was an escaped fugitive. Most of the trees were taller than they remembered, the bright blue tiles of the roof faded with age, and he felt a twinge of guilt in his chest at the reminder of how little they'd been able to visit in the past year. Always so busy with this blasted job...

"Hello, son. How's it goin' in the big city?"

When had Pa's hair gotten so white?  
He still smiled the same, eyes crinkling behind those thick rectangular lenses, fluffy mustache doing that funny lopsided tilt. And Ma-! So tiny, hair steel gray, but she waved and smiled with the bright energy of a woman half her age.

And here he was, their son, clapped in irons with a robot guard on either side of him and the blasted Piece of Resistance a bright red eyesore stuck to his back.

"M-Mummy, Daddy- What're you doing here?"

No. No no no nonononononoNO-!  
They weren't supposed to be here! They were supposed to be at home in their own quiet little precinct, finally enjoying their well earned retirement!

"Oh, Mr. President came by the other day and asked us if we'd like to help with a demonstration of his, dearie. He's so very polite!"

Ma tittered sweetly, but even at this distance, he could see her eyes moving behind her half-moon spectacles, observing, calculating, and he felt the weight of the cuffs around their wrists burning in his awareness when she tried to meet his eyes, her own narrowed in silent askance. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful for or curse his mirrored aviators.

"Aye, had the whole property air lifted when we worried over what to pack."

Pa's voice was light, but those bushy white brows had started to furrow, one hand settling on his belt next to the tazer he still carried.

"Haha, you're very welcome, Pa. Now, we're going to be rehearsing that demonstration we were discussing with some help from your son here."

The sound of Lord Business' voice was jarring to his stunned senses, and Bad Cop realized he was shaking, hands curled into tight fists as his sides. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite get them to unclench.

"Okay, Pa, I just want you to act normally, just going about your day."  
"Ah, yes, alright..."

It was like watching a poorly planned photo-op, Lord Business attempting to direct Ma and Pa into some kind of cutesy pose like would be found on a postcard while the two elder cops tried their best to follow the man's increasingly impatient instructions. The entire situation was just so surreal-!

"You see what I'm talking about, Bad Cop?"  
He jerked at the mention of his name, staring dumbly up at his boss, but Lord Business didn't seem to notice he hadn't been listening, continuing on without the slightest pause.

"All I'm asking for, is total perfection. Send in a Micromanager!"

The floor opened up for the second time that evening, and Bad Cop felt momentarily light headed as the blood drained from his face at seeing the enormous black robot that unfolded between him and his parents. It stood taller than the house, with big clomping claw feet and fearsome talons for hands.

"COMMENCING MICROMANAGEMENT."

What the-?!  
Was that really it's voice?  
That high, squeaky almost childish-  
What was it doing to Ma and Pa?!

Bad Cop strained against the robot guards, pulse pounding in his ears and Good Cop clamoring in the back of their mind as he struggled to see around the boxy bulk of the Micromanager. Then it stepped away, feet clanging on the tile floor, and his stomach twisted into nauseous knots at seeing his parents had been forced into an adorable pose with Pa appearing to be waving and Ma with her hand on Pa's shoulder as they stood before the open gate. It would have been sweet if not for the barely concealed terror on their kindly faces.

"There, perfect! Just stay still."

Lord Business took a step towards Bad Cop, heavy boots shaking the ground, and he leaned down level with the petrified officer, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"And now... I just spray them with the TAKOS."

That huge terrible tentacle slithered forward, taloned actuators flexing as the nozzle centered on Ma and Pa. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, heart in his throat as he was forced to watch his parents try to sidle closer to one another and away from the looming machine.  
And then the TAKOS made the ugliest, wettest SPLORT noise, spewing a thick clear goo all over the couples' legs and feet.

It seemed terribly anti-climactic, until Ma tried to move closer to Pa.  
And her legs refused to move.

Bad Cop saw the realization dawn in widening eyes and thinning lips, feeling as though he had been stabbed through the chest as his dear mother reached out for comfort form her husband, only to find herself denied as he found he couldn't even shuffle his feet.  
The whirring of mechanical parts filled his ears as his parents looked towards him, struggling to hide their fear behind encouraging smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes.

"We- We're okay, son, just a little stuck, is all."  
"Does that upset you, Bad Cop?"

Lord Business' voice was nothing more than a low whisper, hissed in his ear as the megalomaniac lays a hand on his shoulder, a parody of comfort as he watched his parents struggle.

"Surely you feel bad for your parents, and you wanna help them, don't you."

The robot guards abruptly released his arms, and he stumbled forward a step, having unconsciously been straining against their hold. He heard a sharp click as he steadied himself, and stared dumbly down at his own hands, freed from the cuffs he'd been bound in.

"This is your test, Bad Cop."

A remote was shoved into his grasp, and he fumbled with it a moment before getting a grip on it, staring at the glowing buttons for a moment before looking up towards Lord Business.

"S-Sir?"  
"Go ahead- Finish the job."

For a long moment, the police officer simply gazed up at his boss, utterly uncomprehending, before his eyes slowly slid over to the remote he'd been given, then up to the menacing but now still tentacle, his parents half-covered in goop-

And for the first time, he fully realized just how awful Lord Business truly was.

Bad Cop gave the remote a long, thoughtful seeming look, then turned to look back up at Lord Business, the man staring smugly,expectantly down at him.

"No."

Lord Business blinked, his smug smile frozen a moment upon his face before he gave a soft laugh and shook his head, making a show of putting a hand to his ear.

"Ah, sorry, I must've heard wrong, could you repeat that?"  
"I said NO!"

The evil overlord gave a startled yelp as the heavy remote smacked him square in the face, causing the man to stumble back in pained surprise. The robot guards made to rush forward, but Bad Cop dug the metal fingers of his left hand into the floor and wrenched up one of the thick tiles, snarling as he walloped the pair of them into a nearby pillar before bolting for his parents.

"MICROMANAGER!"  
"Son!!"

A nudge from Good Cop drew his attention to the vile tentacle whirling towards him, the huge black robot not far behind, his parents terror-stricken faces, and Bad Cop let out a snarl like a feral animal as he violently wrenched up more floor tiles. The first he hurled at the gaping nozzle, catching a spray of Kragle and minimizing that threat as the tile became stuck over the opening. The second he chucked at the Micromanager's saucer shaped feet, making it stumble when it stepped on the loose tile and delaying it just enough.

Bad Cop scrambled towards his mother and father, the two elder cops reaching back for him as he started to get close, his mind racing to think of something, anything to free them. And then he was convulsing in pain, the twin prongs of a tazer jabbed into the small gap between his helmet and collar. He heard his parents gasp, their voices coming to him through a humming fog, and he faintly realized that he was on the ground, spasming from the current as cold metal pincers yanked at his arms, forcing them back around the Piece to clap a fresh pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be utilized in the court of law."

The robotic voice echoed dully in his ears, and he gave a pained moan as he was hauled upright onto legs that seemed to be partially made of gelatin.

"Sir, the Special has been apprehended and the Piece of Resistance secured. What are your orders, sir?"  
Metal pincers gripped his shoulders, steadying his wobbling. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, and gave a low groan at the pain the motion caused.

"Tha's my job..."  
"Thank you, Cop Robots, its good to see that somethings do work to their expectation."

The ground trembled, and Bad Cop managed to make himself look up, blinking dazedly behind his aviators as he struggled to focus on the big red and black blob that loomed over him.

"Fetch me the Clear Cup of Py-Rax and the Po-Leesh Remover of Nai-Eel. Let us show our dear Bad Cop what we do to those who betray us."  
"Yes, sir!"

Still struggling to bring something of the world around him into clarity, the police officer managed to make out the smaller darker shapes of what he guessed were robots gathering around two much larger shapes, one pink-ish and sort of bottle shaped while the other was hard to make out asides some floating black marks. As he watched, the pink thing was tipped, and a sharp acrid smell began to fill the air.

"I found out about this little trick in an accident with one of my robot assistants. While the Kragle is undoubtedly the most powerful of the Relics, the Po-Leesh Remover of Nai-Eel is by far the most destructive."

The world began to waver into focus, the pink thing straightening, and Bad Cop realized he was being dragged towards some kind of enormous measuring cup, as big around as a swimming pool and almost as tall as Lord Business was at the full height of his elevated suit. It was filled with some kind of translucent blue fluid, just enough that it leveled around shoulder height.

"Besides its own container and the Clear Cup of Py-Rax, the Po-Leesh Remover of Nai-Eel cannot be contained. You know why?"

Lord Business chuckled darkly, and Bad Cop looked up to see the megalomaniac grinning down at him.

"Because the Po-Leesh Remover of Nai-Eel melts through all of our native materials."

He felt an awful chill run down his spine, and tried to dig in his heels on the smooth tiles, the soles of his boots squeaking on the smooth surface as he strained against the robots hauling him towards the cup of acrid smelling fluid.

"Melts...?"  
"Oh yes, melts right through, even better than lasers. But the brilliant thing is that it takes a long time to work, many many times longer than the Melting Chamber."

Lord Business loomed over him, smiling that particular smile that always gave him the absolute worst heebie-jeebies.

"So you'll get to writhe in agony for a couple hours, slowly melting into goop while I finish Kragle-ing your parents and your childhood home."

Click-clack-!

"N-NO!"

Good Cop swallowed hard as Lord Business scowled down at them, but he plowed on, even as he struggled in the grip of the robots.

"Y-You can do whatever y'want to us, just leave them out of this! They're innocent!"  
"Son, no!"

 

Bad Cop swiveled in, jerking against the robots hard enough to look back to their parents, the elder cops stricken with horror.

"Shut it, Daddy! I's f'y'r own good!"

The senior officer stiffened, but after a moment, he nodded. Ma choked softly, tears spilling down her face as she covered her mouth to muffle the worst of them. Pa reached back, managing to twist just far enough to grasp his wife's free hand. Bad Cop forced himself to turn away before he could see the tears start gathering in his father's eyes.  
Lord Business watched it all with a bored expression, tapping a foot impatiently.

"Sir, they're innocent civilians, they've nothing to do with any of this."

Bad Cop swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat, and relented to Good Cop at a slight nudge, his kinder half trembling as he tried valiantly not to cry.

"Please, sir... They- They're all I've got..."

There was a long tense moment of silence, the only sounds the faint whirr of machinery and Ma's muffled sobs. It took far more effort than he cared to admit to maintain eye contact.  
Finally, Lord Business gave a cross-sounding huff.

"Good Cop, Bad Cop- I'm going to Kragle EVERYone and EVERYthing in the known universe. Even if I spared them now, they, along with everyone else, will be Kragled on Taco Tuesday."

The evil overlord came stomping closer as he spoke, and Good Cop felt his heart sink deeper and deeper into his stomach with every word, until it seemed as if he didn't have any insides at all, Just a gaping, aching black hole, yawning open within the rattling cavern of his skeleton. Even swapping out to Bad Cop didn't stop the pain, and his eyes stung, vision blurring behind his aviators.

"So... No. You get melted, your parents get Kragled. The end. ROBOTS!"  
"Yes, Lord Business!"  
"Get a timer and some rope. We'll let Bad Cop dangle over his demise and think on his decisions for a while."  
"Sir! What about the Piece?"  
"Leave it. It'll melt in the Po-Leesh with him."  
"Yes, sir!"

A hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up and meet Lord Business' gaze. When had he looked away...?

"Poor Bad Cop. If only you'd done your job."

They didn't bother with a reply, letting their head drop when Lord Business let go, no longer fighting the robots that dragged them forward. As they were manhandled up a tall flight of portable stairs, their mother cried out, and it was like a knife to the chest, and their breath caught, hiccuping softly as the first few tears spilled free. The robots had to take off the cuffs to tie the rope in place, but there was nothing left in them to take advantage of the opportunity, arms hanging loose until their wrists were grabbed again, heavy coarse rope being looped around their wrists.

How many years had they wasted in Lord Business' employ? How many awful things had they agreed to do, thinking it was for the greater good? How many lives had they ruined, for the sake of duty?  
The Master Builders were right. They were a monster...

"NOW!"

Bad Cop staggered as a black blur slammed into one of the robots that had been busily knotting the rope around his wrists, and he stared dumbfounded at the empty space before he was jostled again, the robot on his other side screeching as it tumbled headlong into the pool of Po-Leesh. He very nearly followed it, unbalanced far enough that he wobbled a bit too close to the edge, but then his arm was begin grabbed, hauling him back. There was a flash of silver, the rope falling lax, and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he was rushed back down the stairs.

"Benny! I got the Cop, time to go!"

Something crackled, and a staticky but chipper voice responded.

"Okie dokie!"

A nearby wall exploded, flinging bits of glass and masonry across the room, and laserfire filled the air as a sharp looking blue spaceship exchanged ordinance with a growing number of security robots.

"ROBOTS! DESTROY THEM! DESTROY THE MASTER BUILDERS!"  
"Yes, Lord Business!"

Bad Cop blinked, and then he was being hauled towards the spaceship, dragged along by the rope bits still knotted around his wrists. He found himself gaping as he finally got a look a this rescuer, her expression hidden in her deep hood as she lashed out at the robot horde with a sword improvised from a broken floor tile and some pieces that might have been a robot's arm. Wildstyle jammed her hodgepodge of a blade through the face of a Cop Robot, the machine screeching in false agony. She snatched away its gun as it fell, and he watched in awe as she ripped the weapon apart with one hand and her teeth, headbutting a security drone to scavenge more parts. In seconds, the standardized laser pistol had been upgraded into a hulking black and silver hand-cannon, which the female builder turned on the robots with startling skill and extreme prejudice. Lord Business roared with rage, and Bad Cop stiffened, struck out of his daze by the unfortunately familiar sound.

It took barely a moment of looking to find what he needed, and the police officer grit his teeth before using their greater bulk to wrench away from Wildstyle, kicking a robot in the face as he made a beeline towards his parents. He could hear the female builder yelling, either at him or her partner, he didn't care. Ma and Pa had seen him coming, and he was not going to let them down again!

The robots seemed confused over whether or not he was a target, something he was quick to take advantage of while it lasted. His mechanical hand tore out the throat of a large Cop Robot, allowing him to take off its head and hurl it into an oncoming security drone, and he kicked another robot's knee joint out of sync. Taking hold of the body, he used the flailing mechanism as a shield as the robots smartened up and began to fire on him. With his hands still tied together, his fighting ability was severely diminished, but he plowed on as best he could, glad for the Piece covering his back as he used the spasming robot to block the shots aimed in his direction.

And then there was a spaceship in his face.

He didn't bother trying to stop, knowing his momentum was far too great to halt in time, instead dropping down to skid under the craft. It was a maneuver that had been the ultimate game changer in many a chase, familiar and well used.

Only...  
He didn't usually have a big red Relic stuck to his back.

Instead of sliding smoothly under the ship and out the other side to continue onwards, the cop found himself tipping over to the side from the weight of the Piece altering his balance, and before he could correct himself, he slammed face first into a chunk of the spacecraft's retracted landing gear. The impact was so sudden he didn't even get the chance to yelp, just toppled over and went sliding on his side, skidding to a halt under the far wing.

Dazed from the blow, he struggled to regain his feet as quickly as possible, tasting copper in the back of his throat as something warm dribbled from his nose and down over his lip. His vision was all discombobulated, light on one side, shaded on the other, and he realized one of the lenses of his aviators had shattered.

"Darn."

Coughing, Bad Cop wobbled as he finally made it upright, looking out over the convulsing metallic mass of robot bodies, the Micromanger looming dark and menacing over a sea of red optics. It had grabbed hold of that awful tentacle, and he felt a surge of terror as the floor tile he'd thrown was wrenched off of the nozzle. Looking to his parents, he saw the awful realization in their eyes, their gasp on one another tightening as they met his gaze from across the room.

Pa nodded.  
Ma smiled.

"No-!"

A hand grabbed the heavy collar of his coat, and he was hauled off the floor, practically thrown into a stiff seat. Momentarily disoriented, he didn't manage to sit up until after a yellow canopy had closed overhead. He vaguely registered the fact that someone was yelling at him, a faintly familiar person-shape clad in black to one side, but he ignored it, scrambling over the seats and standing as much as he could to gaze out through the yellow plastic. The tentacle had turned to face Ma and Pa, talon-like actuators flexing in predatory glee as the Micromanager loomed close.

"NO!"

Enormous engines revved, muffled by insulation and sealant, and Bad Cop slammed his bound fists against the canopy, the material splintering under his metal hand as they pounded on it, their already battered gloves shredding under the assault as they thumped and scrabbled frantically as the barrier between them and the all too swiftly receding forms of their family.

"NO! No no no no NO!!"

Someone was tugging at his coat, fearful words ricocheting off the panic enshrouding their combined consciousness, tunneling their perceptions to the two tiny people clinging to each other as best they could. And then they were hidden from their view by flaring actuators and a serrated nozzle.

"NOOOOO!"

There was an explosion, robots thrown every which way as the room seemed to blur around the edges, and then the Octan building was falling away, a few stray bricks tumbling loose from a brand new hole broken into the side of the thousandth floor. They felt more than heard the scream that tore out of them, shredding from the inside out until there was nothing left.

As the ringing in his ears began to fade, Bad Cop let himself fall limp, sliding down to slump into a crumpled heap on the seat, face pressed to the wall as he shuddered, managing a few dull gasps before choking on his first sob. His face burned with the shame of it, eyes stinging as the tears flowed freely down his face, and he found himself curling into a fetal ball.

"No..."

 

He wasn't sure how long he cried, his breathless sobs the only other sound besides the roaring of the huge engines and the occasional creak as someone shifted their weight around on the stiff seats, but, eventually, someone spoke up.

"...Bad Cop?"

Stiffening for an instant, the police officer buried his face in his hands to muffle a fresh sob, uncaring of the metal points that pressed against his brow. A hand settled cautiously on his shoulder, light but firm, and he nearly choked on his own tongue in surprise.

"I'm sorry."

For a long moment, the cop didn't reply, then he sniffled, shaking his head as he slowly moved to sit up. He stared out at nothing for a second, then turned his attention to where he could just make out Wildstyle's colorfully streaked hair through the haze of his tears.

"...Sorry won't de-Kragle our parents."

He barely recognized his own voice, worn down to little more than a hoarse whisper by the outpouring of more emotion than he had allowed either of his selves for years, and he sniffled a little, reluctantly removing his broken aviators to wipe away the worst of the tears, the coarse rope around his wrists scratching his cheeks. Frowning down at his ruined glasses, he rolled the battered wire frames between his fingers before letting them drop to the floor.

Good Cop was just as, if not more, distraught, the usually optimistic and warm presence sharing their consciousness shadowed and sullied by a bone-deep grief. It didn't take more than a light nudge to get his other side to swap out, and they heard Wildstyle give a soft gasp as the gentler half of their psyche huddled up on the seat, knees to chest, and promptly dissolved into silent tears, not even bothering to remove his own round spectacles.

Cloth shuffled, and someone gently took his hand, tugging just enough to reveal the rope digging into his wrists, and he listened as the coarse fibers were carefully sawed apart, the binding tossed aside. And then there were arms looping around his shoulders, and he let their exhausted, heartbroken body slump limply into Wildstyle's hesitant embrace, too worn out to care that she was likely only offering such comfort because she still thought they were two separate people. They needed this, and even if the lady giving the hugs wasn't Mummy, the feeling was similar enough to draw comfort from as they wept for everything that had been taken from them within the space of the last few hours.

"Uh... I -uh- I hate t'break this up, but we're here."

Who was-?  
Or, right, someone had to be piloting the ship.

Good Cop lifted his head just enough to peek out over his knees, glimpsing the back of a battered blue space helmet before his attention was drawn further out. It seemed to be near midnight in the realm they'd arrived in, a huge gibbous moon hanging heavy above them and shining brightly down upon a darkened city. Not too far ahead, a massive cliff rose up from under the city, buildings dwindling until only one solitary house remained, surrounded on all sides by a stone and wrought iron gate before the well groomed property gave way to an aged forest. It was an enormous mansion, beautiful Victorian Gothic architecture seeming to be glowing from within from all the lights on inside.  
The ship soared straight on over it all, but then dropped into a steep dive a few miles out over the dark ocean, doing a neat about face and skimming the edge of a wing through the waves. Halfway up the cliff, a huge door yawned open, and the police officer watched in silence as the spaceship entered an enormous hangar, settling into place next to a surprisingly familiar black jet.

"...The X-Jet?"

Wildstyle stiffened a moment, obviously not having expected him to speak up, but she nodded.

"Batman's too high profile, but the Professor offered us a safe place to meet up for the time being. People forget that the X-Men exist when big shots like Superman are making spectacles of themselves."

Under more normal circumstances, they would have actually been excited. They'd been aware there was a Marvel realm, but Bricksburg and the surrounding territories were their primary jurisdiction, though they technically had police authority in all known realms thanks to their position under Lord Business. Former position.

Huh.

The point was they'd read comic books about the X-Men and their fight for equality ever since they were a young kid trying to figure out why they were so different front eh other children. Being able to meet these people, the familiar strangers of their childhood...  
If only this day hadn't been so utterly abysmal prior to this point, they might have been able to enjoy it.

As it was, Good Cop stared blankly out the cockpit, observing the hangar and its content as the ship's pilot went through the proper flight procedures for disembarking, the low thrum of the space craft's powerful engines drawing out into a thin whine as they wound down. The transparent yellow canopy popped loose with a dull hiss from the vacuum seal, swinging up and open.

Wildstyle stood first, then the pilot, but they both waited for him to dry his eyes and take a fortifying breath, unfurling from his huddle to take hold of the back of the seat in front of him before hauling himself upright. He felt so tired, wrung out and sore, hurting in a way that a bloody nose and possible concussion was far from enough to cover. It took more effort than he cared to think about to follow the two Builders (the pilot had to be a Builder, it was the only reasoning he could think of that explained the spaceship) down the exit ladder, and he shuffled listlessly after them as they led the way through a veritable maze of flying vehicles towards a circular door that proved to be an elevator.

No one spoke for the entirety of the long elevator ride, no sound but for everyone's shared breathing and the occasional faint crinkling from the pilot's spacesuit. So when the doors hissed open and a veritable flood of noise came rushing into the space, it was almost a physical blow.  
There were children everywhere, children of all ages and shapes and sizes and colors, and Good Cop remembered why they'd forcibly put aside the Marvel universe very early on in their career with Lord Business- Every fiber of their collective being rebelled against the mere notion of arresting and incarcerating innocent kids, possible Master Builders or not.

Falling in step behind Wildstyle, the police officer kept his head down as they started walking up a wide hallway, but even then, he couldn't help but notice that there was a healthy number of Master Builders intermingling with the various kids. Wonder Woman was showing a group of young girls how to wield the Lasso of Truth, Cleopatra had built a delicate mechanical snake out of a lamp to entertain a pair of twins, Gandalf was casting fireworks alongside a tiny boy (girl?) in a bright yellow raincoat. They were all so...

Happy.

Genuinely happy, exchanging warm smiles and laughter as if they weren't a persecuted people more likely to be hunted down and imprisoned that appreciated for their inherent abilities. Or maybe it was BECAUSE of that persecution, the hyper awareness that moments of happiness were fleeting, the knowledge that friendship and humor were to be enjoyed to the fullest while it lingered.  
Guilt burned cold in the pit of his belly, and the police officer dropped his gaze to the floor, eyes pinned to Wildstyle's sneakers as they padding across the plush carpeting, unaware of the stares that had begun to trail after him.  
It turned out to be a good thing he'd been watching the female builder's feet, else he would have walked smack into her back when she came to an abrupt halt.

"Professor."  
"Hello, Lucy."

Good Cop lifted his head, feeling slightly dazed as Bad Cop perked up in the back of his mind.

"It's Wildstyle now, sir."  
"Ah, yes, how could I forget. Better than DarkStar, I must admit."

There was a man, an elderly man, in a wheelchair that was... Hovering?  
"Thank you, sir."  
"I take it this is our guest of honor?"

Blue eyes, cool, but somehow exuding warmth and kindness, surrounded by the faint wrinkles of innumerable soft smiles like the one now creasing across that aged face.

"Yes, sir. Professor Xavier, this is Good Cop Bad Cop."  
"My my, that is quite a mouthful. Why don't we refer to them by their proper name."

Their body stiffened, hands clenching into fists at their sides as the elderly man quirked a brow in their direction.

"Is that alright with you, Malcolm? Or would you prefer Mr. Goodwin?"

_You are among friends, my dear children. There is no need to hide who or what you are._

The voice in their head was startling, not by its presence, but by the fact that it wasn't voice of either half of their psyche. Good Cop felt Bad Cop's surprise just as clearly as his own, and the new voice seemed to grow warm, fluffing out like a mother hen would her feathers, and he found himself speaking before he'd even realized he'd made the decision to be heard.

"M-Malcolm is fine, sir."

The presence in the conjoined space of their mind seemed to fluff out more, settling warm and comforting over them both like a blanket fresh from the dryer, and they had not already been so worn down, the soothing comfort would have brought them to tears all over again.

"That's your name?"

Good Cop blinked, then turned to find Wildstyle staring at him, an expression of total surprise on her face.

"What? Y'didn' think my Mummy named me Good Cop Bad Cop, did ye?"

The young woman seemed startled a moment, then flushed faintly, rubbing nervously at her arm. Shaking his head, Good Cop didn't bother trying to explain himself, turning back to the Professor, who nodded and turned his hover chair to continue down the hall, letting everyone fall in step behind him.

"Uh- I- I- Uh- I-I'm Ben."

Good Cop glanced over, finding the blue suited pilot walking -no- floating along beside him. The man offered a lopsided little smile, idly rubbing at a crack in the chin of his helmet.

"B-But you can call me Benny, everybody else does."

A hand was thrust towards him, and he hesitated only a moment before reaching out to accept it in a short shake.

"Malcolm. Friends call me Mal."  
"Mal. Bad. In the Latin."

What the-?! Where'd the girl come from?!

The young woman merely gave him a sidelong glance, dark eyes fathomless in their depth, then whirled away in a flurry of colored skirted to glide up to a muscular man with a huge gun strapped across hi back and a silly orange knit hat on his head.

_River is a very perceptive young lady, but cryptic at times. She means you no ill will, Malcolm, she simply wished to express an observation._

Good Cop found himself nodding, then realized he was still holding Benny's hand. Muttering a quick apology, he let go and dropped his hands to his sides, turning his attention forward to wherever they were headed.

Only now did the police officer realize that their little group had started something of a procession, Master Builders excusing themselves to fall in step behind the Professor, surrounding him with incredulous expressions of varying intensity along with more than a few wary looks. It was like watching a school of fish hovering around a shark, happy to borrow the generated current but on guard in case the predator lashed out.  
Before he could think further on the comparison, a pair of double doors swung open and the lot of them began to disperse into an enormous atrium, layers of bench seating occupying every wall. Set in the middle of the expansive space was a small vaulted stage, beside which stood Vitruvius, the blind wise man a patient sentinel in the midst of the clamor for seating. The Professor moved to the side, entering no further than the door frame.

At Good Cop's questioning look, the elderly man gave a small smile.

"This is a matter for the Master Builders, few of which may be found among mutant-kind and fewer still who utilize the ability. We stand with you as allies, but the decisions to be made are yours and yours alone."

Whether the Professor was referring to the Master Builders or them as an individual, the officer hadn't the slightest clue. Still, he offered a nod acknowledgment, and turned his attention to the room at large to realize the atrium stands were almost entirely full, and Vitruvius was looking to him expectantly. Both Wildstyle and Benny had moved to stand opposite the wise man at some point, border the little stage, and upon meeting their gazes, he was surprised to see them offer small encouraging smiles, gesturing towards the stage.  
Swallowing, Good Cop inhaled a breath, straightening himself before marching forward. The room as a whole fell quiet as he stepped up onto the stage, the Master Builders watching his every motion in complete silence. Looking about the atrium, he felt a small nudge from his other self, and gave a small nod before he began to speak.

"Ah... Our name is Malcolm Goodwin. You all might know us better as Good Cop-"

He switched out, and saw several pairs of eyes widen at seeing the battered and bloody state of his face.

"-and Bad Cop. We- We know you have many suspicions of us, fears and grudges, and a great deal of them are perfectly warranted."

Inhaling a short breath, he clenched his hands a moment, hearing his leather gloves creak faintly.

"Over the past several years, we've participated in the incarceration of hundreds of your fellow Master Builders, friends and sometimes f-family. Under the direction of Lord Business, we carried out this duty, thinking we were doing the right thing, upholding the law and protecting the populace."

Bad Cop hesitated, guilt burning acidic in the back of his throat, and he let Good Cop swap in to finish what he started.

"Today... Today, we learned that were were wrong."

A murmur started up, threading across the room in a matter of moments, but Vitruvius only had to strike his staff once on the floor to get everyone to quiet back down.

"Within the space of the last 24 hours, we have been imprisoned, interrogated, tortured, beaten, and had multiple attempts on our life by the very man we spent over eight years in service to. Before we arrived here... Before our arrival here, Lord Business tried to force us to- to Kragle our own parents."

Someone gasped, and he had to take a moment to breathe before forcing himself to soldier onwards.

"When we refused, he proceeded to sentence us to die in a pool of what we can only assume to be some kind of acid in Relic form, forced to watch as our parents were Kragled while we m-melted-!"

Voice cracking, he swapped out before the emotion could break through, but even Bad Cop had to breathe and collect himself before speaking further.

"If not for Wildstyle and Benny, we would be dead, and the Piece of Resistance destroyed."

Bad Cop could feel himself shaking, fists clenched so tightly that his arms ached from the strain. Spelling it all out in words, putting voice to the pain- It set something alight in their chest, a low simmering fury that he could feel was building quickly within the cage of their body, and he knew it was very visible on his bare and bloody face.

"Lord Business thought he understood us, thought he could manipulate us into being his perfect pawn, a tool to use and dispose of at his whim. Well... We stand here before you all today, to tell you, he was WRONG!"

Rage flared through him, furious and strong, and he stood taller, head up and shoulders back.

"We became a police officer to uphold the law, to protect the innocent and do what is right! We stand firm beside the credo of true law enforcement- To Protect And Serve!"

Never had he felt such anger before, tinging the edges of his vision red and making his blood boil. Was this what Pa used to refer to, the 'Highland Fury'?

"Lord Business Kragled my parents, and smiled as he did it. But in doing so, he made the single most devastating mistake in his entire life."

The room was practically humming, a feverish energy infecting everyone within earshot. Eyes bright with refreshed spirit could be seen from every seat, and he felt a grim smile of satisfaction grow upon his face, his other half abuzz with equal intensity.

"He made this fight PERSONAL!!"

Slamming his flesh hand into the palm of his mechanical one, Bad Cop could not have cared less about the split knuckles beginning to bleed through his glove, heart pounding in his ears like war drums as the room exploded into a collective roar of battle-ready outrage.  
Good Cop swapped in, grinning practically from ear to ear.

"Shall we inform the good-for-nothing rotten whore-son of his blunder?!"

Thunderous agreement rattled the chandelier, and a sudden swell of pride filled their chest around the blood-fury.

Ma and Pa would not go unavenged!


End file.
